


After Starlight

by JD_Writes



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOFAS Spoilers!!, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_Writes/pseuds/JD_Writes
Summary: Nesta's journey in the Ilyrian Mountains starts with turmoil.





	After Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Start of a fic picking up after the sneak peak at the end of ACOFAS [Spoilers for ACOFAS!]

A preternatural quiet settles in the room. Nesta’s blood went cold and hot instantly. Feyre had constructed a life here. One that revolved around this place, this river house full of art and friends and warmth; this home. A home with no place for Nesta, no paintings of her on the wall, no rooms for her to occupy. And so Feyre, with her self-righteousness and preening male of a husband, had decided to cast her out. To the savageness of the Illyrian mountains. It wasn’t bad enough that she had brought this cursed transformation upon her and Elaine. No, Feyre had found a way to make things worse… of course she had. And it was this reality that make Nesta’s body fill with an icy venom.

But it was the hulking Illyrian beside her that set her body ablaze. Most days she could not bring herself to look at Cassian, let alone interact with him, despite his constant pandering. The thought of spending that much time with him left Nesta feeling conflicted at best. Even now, she could feel the fire of his gaze burning into her.

Nesta’s nostrils flared slightly as she narrowed her eyes at her sister and spoke with absolute derision, “No.”

Rhysand looked ready to intervene, to use that dreaded Fae dominance and will her to submission, but a look from Feyre reigned him in. Amren silently studied Nesta, her anger a palpable force in the room, but she too abided by her High Lady’s order to stay out of this conflict. Feyre pursed her lips and looked back at her sister. “Yes, you will. That or leave the Night Court. I …” Feyre searched for the right words, “I won’t let you fall deeper into whatever this is. I want you to get past this, to heal.”

This only inflamed Nesta, who could feel kernels of that power buried deep in her arising. “It isn’t your decision how I ‘get past this.’ How I live my life isn’t your decision. I don’t need your guilt screwing with my life anymore then you already have.” Nesta looked around again, at the comfortable luxury around her and the grunge of her own clothes. In that moment, she realized that she didn’t wish to fit into Feyre’s life, she didn’t wish for anything. Feel anything. Except the always there, always burning anger and panic that deeply taken root in her since the Cauldron. The Cauldron and war hadn’t just robbed Nesta of her life and father, they had stolen her humanity. Feyre and Cassian and the rest of them had stolen her humanity and left the coldness of immortality in its wake. It was too much.  
  
Nesta stormed out of the river house. She moved with the quick and dangerous severity of living electricity, waiting to lash out at anyone who followed after her. No one did.


End file.
